


The Crimson Streets

by ChatoyantPenumbra



Category: Vampyr (Video Game), Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-World War I, Secret Relationship, Sensuality, Vampires, World War I, spanish influenza, vampyr au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:16:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChatoyantPenumbra/pseuds/ChatoyantPenumbra
Summary: World War I ends, and Yusei Fudo hasn't seen Atem since it was still ongoing. He seeks him out in London, where Atem mentioned he would return once the war ended, but the Spanish Influenza has made a mess of the city, and many evil things now lurk in the darkness. When Atem appears, Yusei realizes he too has been changed, and by more than just the trauma of war.





	The Crimson Streets

**Author's Note:**

> I have risen from my grave to present some raunchy Vampyr AU Synchroshipping.

“Things have been worse, as of late.”

 

A pair of tanzanite eyes flickered up from their glass of amber whiskey, ice absent, to view the barkeep, whose stocky build loomed over his seat even from the other side of the counter.

 

“The Spanish influenza has been sweeping through everywhere, hasn’t it?”

 

Heavy was Yusei’s voice, as it had been for many weeks since the war’s armistice began and he had finally been given the chance to return home. His gaze was tired, unfulfilled, and there was a gleam about them which acted as a clear indicator to the barkeep that he hadn’t gotten so much a wink of good sleep since the war ended and he had been released from its effort.

 

“From what I hear, hundreds more die every day. And the Sewer Dog has been at it again, this time draining bodies of their blood. As if they weren’t tortured enough with the flu.”

 

Yusei’s eyes closed, dark brows pulling together in a mournful expression that the bartender knew all too well, especially in recent times. It spoke of loss and sorrow, and in something else that he couldn’t quite discern, but he didn’t have to be a scientist to know that whatever this poor soul was thinking wasn’t pleasant. In an attempt to change the course of the conversation, perhaps to a lighter topic, the man’s broad frame leaned into the worn wood as though he were about to disclose secretive information, and he tapped his finger on a deep crevice as if contemplating its splinters.

 

Someone came through the entrance, boots clacking gently against the wooden floors only to seat themself at a table off to the left, separated only a table or two from the other few guests who sat with their faces in their drinks. Yusei took no notice of them, too exhausted to care, and the barkeep offered a brief, _“ah, welcome back,”_ before turning his attention back to the individual before him.

 

“You’re clearly Japanese. Tell me what you’re doing here, in London of all places. Were you a soldier in the war?”

 

“A mechanic, sir. I worked initially with automobiles, but then with aircraft.”

 

“So you’re a working man, just like the rest of us.”

 

Yusei seemed not to have a response to the apparent praise as the memories returned, flickering hauntingly in the light of his eyes as though they were being played like a film reel and projected onto the front of his mind without his consent. As he had learned, alcohol numbed the pain, wiped the memories from the slate of his consciousness for as long as it was forefront in his system, so he tipped his head back with the glass and nearly cringed at the bite of the scaldingly cool liquid. He had never quite gotten used to it, the taste nor the effects.

 

The barkeep eyed him contemplatively, before deciding another glass was in order. He gave a soft _tut tut_ when Yusei began to stop him from taking the tumbler, insisting with a second serving. Those bright sapphire eyes stood out harshly against his reddened sclera and the dark circles forming under his eyes from lack of rest. The generosity was out of thankfulness for his service, and if nothing else, at least the libations would give his body incentive for some proper rest tonight.

 

“You never did tell me why you’re here,” the barkeep continued, sliding the whiskey to his company to which Yusei touched the rim of the glass with his leather gloves.

 

“I’m looking for a friend. Someone I met before the war; he started as a diplomat, but later became the right hand of the British Air Marshal. He told me he would be returning here for a time before he returned home. Have you gotten any visitors like that recently?”

 

Before the publican could form a coherent response, another voice in the muggy room commanded the attention, his tone firm but nonetheless patient.

 

“An Egyptian man, wasn’t he?”

 

Icy needles gripped Yusei by the neck, flooding down his spine and back as a wave that quickly took the form of unbearable heat as it touched down into his legs. Had he been standing, he would have surely felt weak in the knees, but he had no opportunity to mind it as his head whipped in the direction of the speaker, eyes wide and more alert than they had been in weeks.

 

He knew that voice; in fact, he knew exactly who it belonged to, and as soon as his gaze settled on the one who had addressed them he could feel something sparking in his chest, sputtering like a poorly-oiled engine that had seen too few trips to a proper mechanic. Wine tresses with a garland of blond at the front had been the first thing to catch his eye upon their initial meeting years ago, but now it was a very different sight that left Yusei speechless and unable to so much as move from his seat when he otherwise would have pounced from his chair to greet the man for which he had spent dozens of days looking, and nearly the same amount of time afraid to mourn.

 

Where an amethyst gaze used to glow in the soft moonlight, in their late talks during leisurely walks on the streets of Tokyo, a shocking crimson now met him.

 

Yusei could only manage the breathless call of his name, their eyes locking with an intensity that even the barkeep noticed as they had so many times before. Yusei’s expression twisted into one of pain.

 

“ _Atem._ ”

 

“You’re still as modest as you always were, Yusei.” Atem rose from his seat, and despite his short stature, command and authority radiated from him with every step, in the way he carried himself, and even his posture hidden beneath the thick, wool trench coat he wore spoke of the depths of his power in a way that it never had before. Something desperate stirred in Yusei’s chest. He couldn’t make out what it was. “He was an Air Mechanic, First Class. Because of his talents, and because of the Japanese military’s lack of a proper air force, he was transferred to the British forces to be promoted, something unheard of even in this war to end all wars.”

 

The tavern keeper managed something of a smirk, quite amused by Yusei’s complete change of attitude following the unexpected reunion. “Two high ranking officers of the military in my humble bar, in this shithole part of town, no less— _who could have imagined._ ”

 

Atem’s gaze caught on Yusei’s once more, and with the air of grace he always possessed, he gestured to the drink nearly forgotten at the mechanic’s side.

 

“The hours grow weary. I’ve been waiting for you for some time, so our generous friend has already been allowing me to rent a room upstairs. Shall we speak of our plans and retire?”

 

Heat pooled at his shoulder blades, and with only a word of thanks to the barkeep, the tallest of the three followed at the heels of his companion up the crickety, old staircase which moaned with every step.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Caught, Yusei was, between a pair of hungry lips and the thin pine wall decorated with nothing but wallpaper and a surprisingly homely trim that reminded him of the first British office he had sat in, waiting for his paperwork to be submitted for his transfer into its air force. One hand caught on the trim, struggling for stabilization, and the other tangled passionately into Atem’s long locks, pulled back neatly into a french braid and exposing the dual tone of his hair in a beautifully neat display of wine and raven tresses. It had gotten longer, Yusei soon realized, as he loosed the elastic tie on the braid and was mindful not to tug carelessly as he knew the material had a tendency to snag painfully, as he had quickly learned through previous experiences with Atem’s hair.

 

The Egyptian man still tasted exactly the same as he had before, but Yusei knew in the core of his being that he had changed since the last time they had seen each other, and suddenly the sickness of worry that something terrible had happened to Atem punched the mechanic with brute force yet again as he kissed his lover and coaxed the diplomat’s trench coat from his small frame.

 

“Aren’t you going to tell me? The war is over; you’re no longer bound by oath to hide things from me anymore.”

 

Atem peeled Yusei’s heavy coat away from his body and took both into his hand, tossing them both with impossible ease over the back of the leather chair in front of the desk, and with one insistent kiss he broke away for only a moment to turn down the dial on the oil lantern, plunging them into a dimness that both excited and alarmed his lover.

 

“What would you like me to tell you, Yusei?” Atem reached to unbutton the stark white fabric of Yusei’s shirt, and the man permitted it until the diplomat’s hands smoothed over his bare chest over his pounding heartbeat, and Yusei’s own finally stopped his touch from advancing farther south.

 

“Tell me what you are. It’s clear you’re not the same as you used to be. You’ve _changed._ ”

 

Atem’s crimson eyes gleamed in the low light of the lantern, glistening dangerously like blood. Yusei could barely look away, clutching the man’s hands even more securely in his own. “Is it necessary when it sounds like you’ve already figured it out?”

 

The air mechanic’s gaze held his sternly; in spite of himself Atem couldn’t help but crack a giving smile, seeming to loose Yusei’s hold on him. A dark-skinned hand swept up the side of Yusei’s collarbone at last, manicured fingers making a point to trace the skin in a way that made him shudder even as Atem’s touch grazed the tender flesh of his neck, and it was at that point that Yusei knew without a doubt what the man he had clandestinely lain with so many times had truly become.

 

“Even before, you had always been the most intoxicating to me, but the smell of you now…” His lips grazed Yusei’s throat, tongue darting from its wet confines to lave generously over where Yusei’s carotid artery thrummed in wait, and his lover sucked in a euphoric inhale whilst tugging ever-so-slightly against those wine locks he loved. “I can smell the way your heart trembles, how your veins shudder. I can see every artery in your body pulsing, full of blood. How easy it would be for me to put you in a trance so you would feel no pain or fear. My heart tells me I can’t, but instinct screams for me to obey. It’s been weeks, Yusei; I’ve grown famished. How can I resist you like this? But if I lose control, I would lose you forever. I can’t…”

 

Atem’s sharp teeth touched down onto the skin, grazing firmly but hesitating all the while, and finally Yusei tilted his lover’s chin upwards, urging sustained eye contact. Yusei watched the roar of bloodlust in his partner’s sanguine eyes recede back into the depths of his crimson gaze, fought into submission by the intensity of his own tanzanite.

 

“You’ll die if you do not feed, won’t you?”

 

His lover’s gaze was grave, and when the realization that he had little option touched down into Yusei’s chest, he thoughtfully shrugged the shirt from his shoulders and tossed it haphazardly onto the bed, drawing his beloved in for a tender kiss that left them both panting and breathless at its resolution.

 

Yusei swept the black locks at his neck out of the way, guiding Atem’s hand back over his heart as he clasped his own around it reassuringly.

 

“Then, slowly.”

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't decided if I want to continue this but if I get good feedback I very well might!


End file.
